


Two

by timeladyofletters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Childbirth, F/M, Fluff, Pregnancy, Pregnant Reader, Reader-Insert, Sick baby, child almost dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-17
Updated: 2014-12-17
Packaged: 2018-03-01 20:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2786030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeladyofletters/pseuds/timeladyofletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader gives birth to hers and Sam's twins - a healthy baby boy and a frail, unresponsive baby girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two

**Author's Note:**

> This story covers a very sensitive topic (see the tags) so please read with caution.

_Breathe, just breathe. In and out. Inhale and exhale._ The voices around you kept telling you to breathe, as if it were easy. But it wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. Childbirth was a natural phenomenon, something that millions of women experienced every day since the beginning of time, and yet in that moment there in your hospital bed, you couldn’t wrap your head around the concept at all. You mentally cursed yourself and Sam for thinking that the two of you were ready for this because so far, bringing kids into the world was _hard_.

It had been a relatively normal pregnancy, though you had to give up your non-paying job as a monster hunter, and eventually Sam did too. Then came the most unexpected news at all – you were having twins. You were baffled of course, because as far as you knew, twins didn’t run in your family or in Sam’s. Not to mention the anxiety that kicked in around the five month mark. You found yourself freaking out about everything – cribs, organic food, baby-eating monsters, the sharp objects that were lying around the bunker; you name it.

You groaned and screamed in pain as you pushed with all your might, the doctor and nurses kept coaxing you with encouraging words while Sam held your hand and pressed his lips to your forehead. You knew that once this was over, his hand would probably have to be in a cast for a month thanks to your iron grip, but he didn’t complain one bit.

After an eternity, you were finally able to take a break when you heard shrill cries. Sam let out a joyous laugh before turning to you, a radiant smile on his face.

“It’s a boy, Y/N! We have a son,” he told you.

You were at a loss for words, opting to pull Sam closer and kiss him full on the mouth instead. You could feel the smile on his lips and part of you wanted to stay in that happy moment forever, but the doctor announced that it was time for baby #2 to make its debut. Sam clutched your hand again, and wrapped his other arm around your shoulders, giving you a gentle squeeze just as you started to push again.

**************************

The second time around was harder. The labor you went through to get your second child out was more painful, more drawn out. You heard the doctor shout something to the nurses and you writhed in pain, but you couldn’t make out any words. Before you knew it, the room was flurried with bodies and voices. Loud voices. The only voice you couldn’t hear was Sam. When you glanced up at him, you instantly noticed how pale and unmoving he was. You tried to ask him what was wrong, but then the doctor insisted that you give one last push.

When it was over, the room was silent for a moment. No talking, no whispering, no _crying_.

“S-Sam?” you whimpered, confused. “What’s wrong? Where’s the baby?”

Sam looked to the doctor, who answered for him

“It’s a girl, and she’s right here. But we need to take her to the NCIU for further tests.”

You struggled to remember what NICU meant, but thankfully Sam had regained his voice for you.

“The neonatal intensive care unit,” he told you shakily. “She was very small, Y/N. And she wasn’t crying.”

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t move. She had to be okay, you needed for her to be okay. You tried to sit up in bed, but your limbs wouldn’t budge. You had to be with your daughter, your daughter who you haven’t even seen yet, but Sam and the nurses insisted that you got some rest.

“Baby, you need to get some rest, okay? I’ll go see what’s going on, but you need to get some rest.”

Before you could object, a nurse placed a swaddled blue bundle into your arms. Your son. You calmed down a bit then as you stared into his tiny face. He was asleep, and you couldn’t help but wonder if he inherited your Y/E/C eyes or Sam’s hazel ones.

Sam sat down beside you on the bed, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. You leaned into his warmth and closed your eyes, desperate to find even just a second of solace.

**************************

A few hours later, Sam helped you into a wheelchair and took you to meet your daughter at last. At first you were wary about leaving your son, but his Uncle Dean assured you that he could handle watching him for a few minutes, as long as he stayed asleep until you and Sam got back.

After everything you had seen in your life - monsters, demons, angels, the apocalypse; nothing could have prepared you for the moment you saw your daughter for the first time. Even from where she slept in the infant incubator, you could tell that she was much smaller than her brother. And she was so very frail and still. Before you went in, the doctor warned you and Sam that she couldn’t breathe on her own, and her chances of living were slim. You wouldn’t accept that.

“It’s my fault,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. “It’s all my fault.”

Sam swiftly knelt on the ground before you and cupped your face in his hands.

“No, Y/N, this isn’t your fault. This isn’t anyone’s fault. These things happen, and blaming yourself won’t do any good.”

You nodded slowly as Sam kissed your forehead and held you for a while before you both turned your attention back to the tiny infant before you. So there you sat, unable to hold her, just watching. You needed her to know that her mommy and daddy were right there beside her, but you didn’t know if she could even hear anything you had to say.

As if on cue, Sam began to speak again.

“Hey there, baby girl. You don’t know me yet, but I’m you dad. And this beautiful woman here? She’s your mom. And we love you so, so much. We promise we’re going to do everything we can to give you and your brother the best life possible. But we need you to do something, okay? Don’t give up. I know it’s a rough world out here, but you…you’re going to make it. I know you will, because you’re your mom’s daughter, and she’s the strongest person I know. So don’t give up, okay? You have a whole family of people who love you already and can’t wait to meet you. And we promise we’ll keep you safe. Always.”

Sam had a hand on the hard plastic roof of the incubator, and the other hand was wound tightly with both of yours. Silent tears were streaming down your face as you listed to his words, your eyes never straying from your child.

**************************

Two weeks later, you and Sam were back home from the hospital, and watching proudly as your little boy fell asleep in his dad’s arms. He didn’t have a name yet, but there would be time for that later. Though, Dean kept hinting that he wanted you to name him after his “Badass Uncle Dean”. After a whole day of being on non-stop baby duty, you and Sam were finally able to sink down onto a couch and relax. At least, you tried to, right before screams began to echo through the bunker for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“SAMMY! Y/N! CODE RED!!!” Dean shouted as he raced down the hall, carefully, to where you were.

“What happened, Dean?” you asked innocently while you tried to suppress a giggle.

“She pooped, again!” Dean exclaimed as he gently placed your daughter into your waiting arms.

Sam barked out a laugh, though not too loudly. “Dude, weren’t you the one who insisted that you were a pro with babies?”

Dean took a second to think back to half an hour earlier, when he insisted that could put his niece to sleep with no trouble at all. Of the two twins she was the calm one, while your son was the fussy one, which was why Dean thought that spending time with her would be a piece of cake.

“Yeah well,” Dean whined, “that was before she dropped a massive stink bomb!”

You and Sam couldn’t contain your laughter anymore, but luckily your son was a heavy sleeper. Dean rolled his eyes and marched off, grumbling about the amount of showers he was going to have to take.

“We did good, didn’t we?” you asked Sam quietly as the four of you huddled together on the couch.

“Yeah,” he said before kissing you sweetly and making your heart race in your chest. “We did good.”

The two of you looked down at your little girl as she wriggled in your arms, hazel eyes bright and alive. Her recovery had been a shock to the doctors, “a miracle” they called it. And for once, you didn’t question it. There was no doubt in your mind that your kids would be okay. They were fighters. They were survivors. They were _Winchesters_. ~~~~


End file.
